Shooting fish in a barrel
by ex zombie
Summary: Sometimes getting to Daryl Dixon was as easy as shooting fish in a barrel. Hard to resist making that red neck feel hot and bothered. Mostly Carol, but evetually everyone gets a shot.
1. Chapter 1

Rednecks and Tailgates

They were sitting on the tail gate of the red truck out in the yard, him carving bolts and her mending clothes when she asked him.

"Daryl," she started, "what was your type of woman, before this all started."

He shook his head and snorted. "Why you wana know bout that?"

She shrugged without looking up from her mending. "Just wondering is all."

"I don' know "he answered, pausing his work for a moment and staring out at the horizon. "I guess I liked them curvy blondes, jus' like any other white trash, red neck."

She stopped her mending and turned to look at him, her eyebrows raised in disbelief. "Really?"

"Well," he shrugged, "hell's yeah. You know…the pin up type."

"Is that who you…dated?" her eyes went back to her hands.

"Pshht !" he shrugged, "I didn't date nobody. But that aint what you asked. You were askin' about my type."

"Well what's the difference really?" she asked quietly, stung by his answer. What was she expecting him to say anyway, older women with short, grey hair?

"There's a hell of a difference," he paused and rested his hands on his dirty jeans, "you tellin' me that…Ed, was your type? Some guy that…." He looked down again and shrugged, "Well, you know better than me what he was like."

She closed her eyes and lifted her head to the sunlight, smiling for a moment as she thought back on her previous life, Her previous life, before, the apocalypse, before Sophia, before her sickness….before all of it. "Ed wasn't always like that you know."

He grunted and shook his head.

"I never really dated much" she said looking down as she continued her mending, "and when Ed came around, I just….I just went with it I guess."

"Yeah well…" he held the piece of wood he was carving up and inspected it with one eye shut before returning it to his lap. "Dumb move." He grumbled under his breath.

She stopped and stretched her back, resting her hands and staring off into the fence line. "Well, I suppose it was…. He did give me Sophia. And I had twelve wonderful years with her…so it wasn't all bad."

Daryl kept his head down and kept on carving. He didn't want to touch that. He didn't want to delve into something so deep and so personal, he didn't want to mention Sophia….ever.

Carol closed her eyes for a moment before sighing. She knew she had crossed a boundary with him. She could feel it, thick and cold between them. Sophia was her greatest loss, and his biggest failure…at least he thought so. She didn't want to think about her. Not today. Not when it was warm and sunny, and there were no groans of walkers coming from the fence line. She wanted to have one day. One good day.

So she took another deep breath and smiled before looking in her lap and resuming her work. "He was the only man I'd ever been with, you know." She said softly.

"Jesus Christ woman!" he grumbled loudly. "Don't need to know that shit!"

She laughed, pulling a hand up to her mouth; she had known this comment would get him going…sometimes she thought, getting to Daryl was easier than getting walkers through the fence.

He shook his head, "You best be keepin' that to ya' self."

"Well he was!" she said continuing to laugh, "Or is, I guess." She looked at him before shrugging, "Isn't that pathetic, I mean it's the end of the damn world, and that mean son of a bitch was the only man I've ever had sex with."

"Hey!" He pushed himself off the tail gate and stood, "I aint kidding with ya woman, you cut the shit or I'm walkin'. I mean I know we're friends but….I aint your _girlfriend_. And that shits…personal."

"Oh calm down Daryl!" she scolded, "You don't need to be so uppity about…that. It's not as if you've never…"

"Hey," he held up a hand, "I'm warnin' you Carol…."

"Ok, Ok…" she smiled softly, "I'm done….I promise… you can sit…"

He sat down on the tail gate again and smirked in her direction. "damn woman thinks this some type a' girl talk or somethin'."

"Sorry." She shrugged. "I forgot how…sensitive…you were."

He paused and slammed his knife down, turning to face her, "Well now y'ar jus' fuckin' with me."

"I am." She said solemnly before breaking into a grin. "I am, I'm sorry… I was…bored."

"Oh" he laughed lightly under his breath, "well I'm sorry, I'm so damn borin'….maybe you could be scrubbing clothes or rustling up some shit meals, or killin some more walkers, if I'm jus' too damn boring' ta sit with."

She whistled softly through her teeth. "Now _that _was sensitive."

He shook his head and laughed. Damn this woman _never _let up. "Yer, tryin' to get under my skin right?" he asked, squinting in the sun.

"Yes." She laughed. Leaning over slightly to bump against his arm. "I am"

"Yeah well…" he mumbled softly, non-committedly; as he let the comfortable silence over take them again. It was nice, he thought, sitting' out here in the sun, just shootin' the shit with a friend. A good friend.

He worked on his bolt for a while carving and looking, and perfecting, before he set it down and pulled another stick from the pile. He held it in his hand for a moment before stretching his arms above his head and trying to get a crick out of his neck. Yup…she had been right, could get a little boring out there.

"Sides," he mumbled, under his breath, "Don't know what yer complainin about, world aint over yet."

She laughed, "Daryl Dixon…are you suggesting that I…"

"Ah ta ta" he held up a hand to silence her. "I aint suggestin' nuthin….just statin' a fact. You still got plenty of time ta….ta….do what ya wanna do."

She looked at him in disbelief, he refused to meet her eyes, but she could see that he was smirking, fighting hard to hide a grin.

"It's not like I have much choice." She teased.

He squinted into the sun, and smirked, she could take some razzing too he reckoned. "There's always Axel ?" he shrugged.

"Not my type." She answered with a laugh.

"Well," he shrugged, "Not many 'types' left ta choose from. Slim pickin's now."

She looked down at the shirt in her hand, more holes than cloth, really, "Don't I know it." She sighed, with a smile. "I'm thinking I'm going to have to change my type…."

"Ya are, are ya?" he asked. He couldn't believe he was doing this. This was flirting, something he'd never managed before, and something he certainly shouldn't be doing now…not with his friend. His best friend.

"Oh yeah," she continued, pausing her sewing and looking out across the fence line again. "Times are different now…so…we have to let go of our old ideals. Like you" she paused and looked down into her lap again, "you may never get that perfect blonde pin up."

He raised an eyebrow; just who did she think he was. "I never got one of those before the apocalypse neither, woman."

"Really?" she asked, surprised.

"Hells no!" he smirked, "woman, I was white trash, lucky enough to find some skank wantin' to come home with me at the end of the night. Shit…... blonde pin up…." He shook his head. I never even had a girlfriend, he thought. Damn woman probably had more experience in the bedroom than him…and_ that _was sad.

"My God," she turned to face him, "Is that what you were like, taking women home from bars and…"

"No, no, no, now don't get yerself all up in a huff, all women's lib and shit. I didn' say I did that….I said I woulda been lucky enough for that." For some reason, he just didn't want her thinking those things about him. Not her. Not ever.

"So you didn't do that?" she asked uncertainly. Hoping, for no particular reason, that it was the truth. Wanting to hear more than anything at that moment that Daryl had never ever taken any woman home from a bar…especially not a "skank".

"Woman." He said sternly, standing up and gathering his belongings, realizing that things had gone too far, and that this conversation had crossed well beyond the boundaries of his comfort zone. "What I did or didn't do with women aint nobody's business but my own." Then looking over and seeing that maybe he had spoken to her a little too sternly, he added softly, "but it wasn't much, I'll tell ya that much."

She paused for a moment, then shrugged. "You still have time. World aint over yet."

He stood there for a minute, speechless, before shaking his head and turning to head inside, "You commin?" he called out to her.

She scrambled to her feet and jogged a bit to keep in step with him, "You know…." She started, with a laugh, "I've been thinking about changing my type…. to rednecks."


	2. Chapter 2

_Hey y'all, here's another chapter. Updated both my stories today, and would LOVE to get some feedback. Just cause its not all Caryl doesnt mean i dont want some love...BTW any suggestions on next chapters, love getting ideas and i take requests._

Bad Boy Pinup

Glenn and Maggie had managed a couple of bottles of Vodka on their last supply run, and though Hershel had commandeered one as antiseptic for his medical kit they had managed to keep one themselves.

It wasn't their usual poison, but the sharp liquid felt good sliding down their throats and the pleasant buzz brought on a giddy mood in the prison. They had built a small fire pit under a window in the cell block, and now Glenn, Maggie, Carol, and Beth sat loosely around it. Rick and Axel were off on guard duty, Hershel refused to partake and Carl had passed out earlier in his cell, baby Judith wedged between him and the wall.

Daryl Dixon was watching them through narrowed eyes from the far wall, where he sat sharpening his knife. Sure, he was willing to partake in the drinking of the vodka, but all this crazy drunk giggling wasn't his thing.

"Say this thing…this zombie thing didn't happen…." Glenn started; he was by far the drunkest, and the goofiest, with or without the help of liquor. "Like, what would you see us doing….you know, like if we didn't know anything about one another."

Maggie, giggled, and reached for the bottle. "Hmmm, this could be fun."

Everyone but Daryl and Beth burst out into a fit of giggles. Beth wasn't drinking of course, and Daryl, he was just ignoring them. He didn't mind having some good times now and again, but Christ Glen just always got plain stupid when he was drinking.

Carol shook her head softly, "Swat team….all of us" She mumbled, reaching for the bottle herself.

Everyone burst into laughter again, and the bottle switched hands.

"Come on" Glen whined "for real"

"You would be some kind of computer geek." Maggie laughed.

Glenn smirked "Oh that's original; the Asian guy can be a tech nerd. Ha."

Carol's hand flew over her mouth to cover a laugh, and even Daryl let out a chuckle from across the room.

"Don't be pissed," Maggie reached over and wrapped her arms around his neck pulling him over for a sloppy kiss on the cheek. "You know you're a nerd right? A cute nerd….but you're a nerd."

"I'm not a nerd…" he laughed, "I mean I may look like one….but I am badass."

The room burst into laughter at that one.

"Carol would work at a gallery, like a cool trendy art gallery." Beth said smiling from across the fire. She was the only sober one, and everyone knew she would take any opportunity to think back on the old world.

Maggie reached out, and ran her hand through the side of Carol's hair. "Your hair would be all funky, and you would wear tons of hip necklaces…."

"Hmmm," Carol smiled taking a long slow sip. "That would be nice….that would be the first time in my life that I'd be doing anything cool or hip."

Maggie sat up and crossed her legs, a smile forming on her lips. "Bethy would be a country singer."

"Amen to that," Daryl called out from across the room, his contribution shocking everyone. "Girl sings like an angel," he mumbled shyly looking down at his knife.

Carol raised her eyebrows, while Beth, who had never heard Daryl say more than one word to her before, turned a furious shade of red. "Thank you," she called out her voice cracking.

"Ohhhh Daryl," a drunken Maggie crooned, "Look you made Bethy blush."

"Maggie!" Beth exclaimed under her breath, as Maggie rolled into another peel of laughter.

Daryl paused what he was doing to look up. "Yer all's game is jus' plain stupid." He drawled "The world aint ever gonna go back and yer all never gonna be more than ya are now. And you," he pointed the tip of his knife at Maggie, "yer drunk and yer embaressin' yer sister….leaver 'er be."

"What about Daryl?" Maggie pressed on, sticking her tongue out at him, "Mr. Fun, over there…what would he be?"

"I aint playin'" he called out.

"No one's askin' you to," she laughed. "Would he be like ….a mechanic?"

"No way," Glen laughed, "he'd be like…. You know that dude…that uh…the crocodile hunter!"

"Christ y'all are stupid," Daryl called out "you do know that right?"

"He would never be like that guy," Beth said softly, "he's too quiet, and shy."

Daryl shook his head and snorted. She did have a point. "Aint so much that I'm shy sweetheart, just don't like bein' stupid." He nodded at her, and she looked down blushing once again.

"Couldn't you see him owning some mom and pop gas station?" Glen asked

Maggie and Carol bent at the waist laughing. It was hard to see Daryl Dixon as anything but himself. He was too quiet, too rough, too dirty, and just too award to be anything but who he was right now. But, unfortunately, who he was right now left plenty of room for drunken speculation.

"Watch it china man," he called out again, being dragged into this stupid shit no matter how hard he resisted. "I aint no fuckin' mom an' pop, not even in some stupid game."

_Now damn if they weren't getting' on his nerves after all. Even at the end of the dammed world, he thought, playin some stupid ass pretend game, they couldn't come up with somethin half way decent for him. Jesus, he thought, white trash is white trash no matter how you slice it._

Carol reached for the bottle and took a long slow sip. " You know," she started "Andrea's younger sister Amy, back at the quarry," everyone stopped to look at her, not knowing where this was headed, these days, laughter had a way of turning into tears faster than you could imagine. "She always though that Daryl could be a model."

Everyone started laughing, and from across the room Daryl stood up "Christ," he mumbled, "Now, this is getting' too stupid for me ta even stick around."

"I'm serious," Carol continued, "My God, it was always 'look at Daryl Dixons arms', and 'look at Daryl Dixons shoulders', and 'oh my god has anyone actually seen the color of his eyes" she laughed and ducked her head down shaking it softly, "It drove Andrea craaaazy ! She was always saying, 'dammit Amy, if I have to hear about Daryl Dixon one more time I swear I'll…."

The room had grown quiet. Maggie and Beth had never met Amy, but they'd heard about the horrible night at the quarry. And Daryl, and Glenn, they'd never get the sounds of those high pitched screams coming down that dark road out of their heads. No amount of drinking could erase that carnage from their minds.

Maggie swallowed hard, and looked up; everyone had their eyes fixed on the ground in front of them. The bottle hung loosely between Glen's fingers, and Beth had tears in her eyes. "She was right you know." She said softly, hoping to break through the thick somber mood. "At least about his shoulders….." she giggled lightly, "I mean have you seen those things?"

Carol chuckled softly under her breath, "and those arms?"

"Ugh!" Maggie cried flopping over backwards in a pretend swoon.

"Hey!" Glenn punched her shoulder, "I'm still here you know."

Maggie folded her arm over her eyes and shut them as she giggled, "I know babe. And I still love ya, but you have to admit….that those _arms_ "

Carol laughed and pretended to fan herself.

"Hey," he called out gathering his stuff, "Y'all are talkin' about me, an I'm right here. Ya do realize that right?"

"Oh shush," Maggie called out, "you said you weren't playing,"

"Yeah well", he mumbled, "I still got ears_." Christ sake, he thought, had those two gone mad? You give them a tiny bit of liquor and they just up and lose their mind. I mean, he was the furthest thing from being anything that anyone would even consider lookin' at more than once_.

"Can you imagine," Maggie continued, "what he would look like, say all cleaned up, with a shave and ..."

"Hmmmm," Carol had her eyes closed and she wrapped her arms around her knees, "Oh yeah," she whispered, "believe me, I can imagine alright."

_Jesus Christ, he couldn't believe this shit; I mean was he hearing them, were they talking about him?_

"Hey," he called out loudly, "Are y'all crazy or somethin'?" he asked grabbing his stuff and stomping towards them a few steps before stopping, "I'm right here. I can hear y'all just fine. An' ya can't be talkin about me or my arms or my….. nuthin. Christ, I aint no…." he shook his head and looked at the three women around him, who all had hooded eyes and goofy smiles. "Hey," he called out snapping his fingers in front of them, "CUT IT OUT."

Carol smiled and rested her chin on her arms, "Cut what out?" she asked dreamily.

He narrowed his eyes, "I know what yer all doin', and it aint funny."

Maggie pulled her arm off her eyes, "It's kinda funny," she said starting to giggle again, "and you look even hotter when y'are all pissed off."

Daryl stood still for a moment than pointed his knife across at Glen, "ya gotta put a muzzle on her."

"Besides," Maggie called out, as she curled up and rolled to her side, "Your shirts all open, and it's got NO SLEAVES."

Daryl looked down at himself; the front of his tattered shirt was indeed almost completely undone. Hell, he only had two buttons left on the thing, and of course he'd ripped the sleeves off, the thing was flannel, and it was damn near a hundred degrees in there.

A small tiny smile formed on Carol's lips, and before she could even stop herself, she uttered softly, "He's like a bad boy pin up."

"The fuck?!" Daryl grunted grabbing the front of his shirt with his free hand and pulling it closed up by his neck. "Y'all are drunk, and stupid…..an' yer havin' a god time messin' we me but as ya can see I aint laughin one bit. In Fact," he grumbled as he turned around and headed towards the steps, "I aint gonna even stand here and listen anymore, I'm goin' up ta bed."

"Even better!" Maggie called out after him, and he could hear their laughter and Glen's shushing as he stomped on up his metal steps towards his perch.

_What in the hell had gotten into those women he thought, as he laid onto his bed. Give 'em a tiny bit of liquor and they start seeing things that aren't even there. Goddamn Daryl Dixon bad boy pin up my ass._


	3. Chapter 3

_Okay here's a quick one that I think is kind of funny. Please drop a line it only takes a second to make my day!_

**CARL**

They were sitting in the tower, arms slung over the rails, legs dangling over the sides, watching Carl out in the yard as he trailed behind Beth.

"Poor kid," Daryl mumbled with a snort and a shake of his head. "Just hopeless."

"How so," Carol asked and turned to face him, her blue eyes as clear and limpid as a pool of water.

"Trailing' after Beth all day like a dammed puppy dog." He said, motioning towards them with his head.

"Aww," Carol smiled, "Well, I think it's sweet. And besides….it might not be so hopeless."

"Course it's hopeless woman," he growled reaching the bars and pulling himself up to his feet. "Carl's a kid and Beth's…a woman." He finished awkwardly.

"Ohhh," Carol smiled. "Beth's a woman huh?"

"Christ you know what I mean…." He mumbled stepping back, and leaning against the tower, and out of the sun. "He aint got a chance…is all."

Carol stretched her arms above her head in a stretch; all too aware that behind her Daryl's eyes were probably fixed on her back, her arms, her neck. "They're only about five years apart you know."

"Yeah well, that's a hell of a spread," he said, too quickly.

"Really," she answered surprised, turning to face him, an eyebrow raised up in an arch, is that why he hadn't ever made a move. "Is that what you think?"

"We aint talking about me." He snapped. "Don't matter what I think." He shook his head, and walked towards the other side of the tower. Christ almighty he thought, lately that woman had nothing on her mind other than driving him crazy.

"Well sorreeee," she teased, "didn't realize you'd get all up in a huff about it."

"I aint in a huff." He called out softly from the other side. "I was just makin' an observation about Carl, and yer turning it into somethin' about me…as usual."

She laughed brightly. It was true. He knew her so well. But, how could he blame her, he NEVER talked about himself, never a word, and she could spend hours days learning about him. She wanted to know anything and everything.

And besides, she didn't even know how old he was. She knew how old she was. And she figured there was what, about five years between them.

"You're right." She said scrunching her nose, "I did do that didn't I?" She stood too, and hung her arms over the rail. "Well," she continued, "I'm thinking that difference between them will even out soon enough." She sighed.

"Pfft," Daryl circled the tour again. "Maybe the kid ought to lay off, an focus on what's goin' on out there."

"Oh stop it," she turned to face him, "you know Carl's growing up way too fast as it is. Let him have a little hope."

Daryl leaned his shoulders against the tower and pulled himself into the shade again. Now why was it that every damn one in his group was so pre occupied with finding someone? He'd never worried about that sort of thing before, and he sure wasn't gonna start now. I mean it was the end of the world damn it, sure a woman would be nice….but shit there was plenty of other things to worry about.

"Yeah well," he mumbled, "In this world, he'll be lucky if he hits puberty."

Carol let out a whistle. "Oh he's hit it….believe me."

"The hell's that supposed to mean?" He asked, without thinking.

She turned around, taking her eyes off the horizon for a moment to fix them on the rough man leaning casually across from her. She knew this would get him…but hell it would be so fun.

"What do you think it means?" she said slyly, folding her arms across his chest.

What did he think she meant. Hell he didn't know….and frankly, he didn't much care. Trying to figure out Carol, in the heat of the day wasn't anywhere near the top of his priorities.

Carol laughed, and shrugged her shoulders, "his cells right next to mine…."

"What …." He started, and then realization hit, and pink flush spread quickly across his cheeks. "aww hell woman….no!"

"It's not my fault…" she laughed again, covering her face.

"Aww no," he said again, shaking his head and chuckling a bit. "Poor Carl, Now that just aint right."

Hell, he thought, if it aint bad enough having to grow up in a damn zombie apocalypse, and living in a damn prison, you got to have some woman in the cell next to you listenin' to you beat off.

That was the thing about being up on his perch. Hell, he didn't have any walls around him, but he was set off…private. Well, not that he did that sort of thing, hell no, couldn't even remember the last time he touched himself like that. But still, a man liked to have some privacy.

She shook her head, and hunched her shoulders, a pink flush starting to spread on them as well. "I mean, what am I supposed to do?" she asked. "I suppose I could move."

"Yeah well," he snorted, without thinking, "don't be movin' next to me."

"Really!" she asked both eyebrows shooting up, as her hand came to cover her mouth.

"Christ!" Daryl murmured, turning bright red, "You know that's not what I meant."

"What did you mean?" she asked laughing, enjoying the fact that he was turning redder by the second.

"Stop," he groaned, reaching over and giving her a shove on the shoulder.

Carol raised her hands up, still laughing. "I wouldn't judge, you know." She said with a smile, "A man's gotta do, what a man's gotta…."

"Yeah," he snipped, cutting her of, his cheeks still a furious shade of red. "and this man aint doin' nuthin', so ….you just….just keep to yer end of the block, that's all."

"Okay then." She smiled, her cheeks still pink, and her lips pressed together, to try to force the smile out. "I'll stay put…right next to Carl."

"Hell no, that aint gonna work neither," he muttered, dropping down to a crouch, running his finger across an imaginary anything across the toe of his boot, to avoid looking at her .Carl, was his pal, and hell if he'd let him go through with that type of humiliation, even if he didn't know. Was bad enough, that he had to know about it himself. Now he'd barely be able to look that kid in the eye again.

"Shit, I'll take one fer the kid if I have ta." He grumbled, rising to his feet again, and kicking his boot against the ground, "aint no way, he's gotta spend the rest of his days beatin'….uh… I mean…hell; a growing boy needs some privacy that's all."

"So I can move next to you?" she asked quietly, her hand still up near her mouth, concealing a grin.

He stood, and grabbed at his crossbow before shrugging lightly. "If there aint nowhere else for ya to go…."

"Well, I mean….there is a whole prison…" she started walking towards him slowly.

"Pfft, that aint gonna happen." He said, turning his back to her and hanging his arms over the rails. Like hell if he'd ever let that happen. "Why don't ya go on in there an' get some of your shit moved." He mumbled without facing her, "I got this covered."

"You mean now?" she squeaked, delighted and surprised by just how involved Daryl was getting with this topic. She had always known, that the man thought of Carl like somewhat of a brother. But this was well….surprising.

"Ya got somethin' better to do?" he snapped. "Aint done tormenting' me for the day?" He snorted and shook his head, gazing out across the horizon, a small smile forming on his lips. "Now git woman, fore I change my mind."


End file.
